


i met somebody in a sea of people and thats just what i believe in

by spendon



Category: P!ATD - Fandom, Panic! at the Disco, PatD
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Brencer, Fluff, M/M, Mermaid!Spencer, Not Band!Verse, Spendon, alcohol use, mermaid au, mermaid!verse, not bandverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spendon/pseuds/spendon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon has the job of his dreams as a deep-sea diver/marine biologist, and he didn't think his life could get any better than this.</p><p>  Only, it does, when he makes the discovery of a life time. An enigma that would change his entire career, one that could make him thousands, no, millions of dollars. Except, there was the fact that he kept it to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i met somebody in a sea of people and thats just what i believe in

 When he was little, Brendon's parents took him to the beach. They gave him buckets and molds to make sand castles with, shovels to dig moats, and more buckets to fill those moats. They took him out to the water, they taught him how to swim, and showed him how much fun it was to jump over the waves. His father attempted to show him how to fish, though failed miserably, seeing as he ended up losing the pole from something tugging it away  
  
  Brendon loves the ocean. He loves going to the beach, he loves swimming, he loves the smell of the water and the sound of the waves crashing back down into each other, onto the sand. It just fills him with so much joy to even be near the beach. He's always felt at home there.  
  
  He also happens to love deep-sea diving, and marine biology.  
  
  It's his job, really, but it's probably the most fun he's ever been able to have in the world. Exploring underneath the water, discovering the fish and plants that lived in it. And with his special camera, he was able to photograph them, and do research, figure out what everything was and it's purpose. He couldn't think of a better possible job. Because really? It couldn't get any better than this.  
  
  Only, it does, when he makes the discovery of a life time. An enigma that would change his entire career, one that could make him thousands, no, _millions_ of dollars. Except, there was the fact that he kept it to himself.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Despite the sun beaming down on everyone, heating up the sand enough that nobody wanted to stand on it barefoot, the air was cool, filled with the scent of the ocean that Brendon looked so much, and the water was warm and clear. Brendon waded through the shallow water until he reached the dip in the sand, submerging himself into the water.  
  
  He sucked in a couple of breaths, used to the weight of the air tanks strapped over his shoulders, held against his back, slowly swimming through the water, easily recognizing most of the sea life that he swam past. As he continued further, deeper into the depths, a sudden flash of scales in the corner of his eye caught his attention.  
  
  Brendon turned around, his gaze averting here and there, yet he found no source of the fish (or other kind of sea life mess) that could've caused such a notable reflection of light. Despite that, he was rather slightly alarmed by the fact that most of the fish were swimming away as fast as their little fins could carry them, all hiding behind different plants or attempting to burrow themselves into the sandy floor.  
  
  He wondered if there could possibly be a shark around - no, because they all wouldn't go and hide like that, save for the few that seemed to have no idea what was going on and simply idling around. Brendon snapped a couple of pictures, deciding that maybe he should report this to his partner, Dallon, or the higher ups, tell them about something strange in the water. But what fun was that? He wanted to find out what was happening before running away and screaming like a little girl, or something like that.  
  
  Besides, it was probably just some fat goldfish won at the carnival that got too big for its fishbowl after its owners realized it was dying anytime soon and recently decided to throw it over the boardwalk at the beach. Should that be the case, Brendon was fairly surprised that it hadn't died already from water temperature change, as well as tap water to salt water, and the fact that there were other, much bigger predatory fish that likely would've gulped it down the moment splashed into the water.  
  
  He decided he was far enough in the water, and that he shouldn't venture any further, glancing around with a huge grin underneath his breathing piece. He snapped his camera a couple of times, each fish name coming into his mind merely seconds after he took the picture. He started listing those he could remember off the top of his head just for the fun of it, each and everyone buried inside of his head.  
  
  The flash from before seconded itself, snapping him out of his thoughts. He noted the color of pale blue whir past him at incredible speed, though it bothered him in the slightest bit. It couldn't be tuna, right? The ones here weren't as fast moving at that was, nor as...pale as what just swam past him. He was stumped.  
  
  He narrowed his eyes, turning "tail" after taking several more pictures, ranging from the growth of fish they were tracking (which had special tags on their dorsal fins), to just nice looking photos that could probably be turned into a post card, a dumb "wish you were here!" scrawled across the front. Sometimes he sent his photography to his parents. Most times he didn't.  
  
  After spending a little bit of time to return to shore, he took his mouth piece off, glad to see sand, sand, and more sand. Oh, and the sky. And the ability to breathe actual, fresh air, not air inside of a tank. Brendon took a couple of deep breaths; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale; before making his way to his car.  
  
  He carefully laid out his gear in the trunk, then placed his camera in the passenger seat, crawling into the drivers side. Once he was back at the aquarium, he would go into the back office and upload his pictures, email them and he would've done his job for the week.  
  
  Only, when he's uploading his pictures, he notices something pretty odd in a couple of them. Using the scroll on his mouse, he zoomed in, eyes narrow, brows furrowed. In the background, there was a rather large and long looking fish tail, one of a fish he'd never seen before. The spots going down along it's side glowed faintly, as if they would be brighter in the deeper waters. He clucked his tongue, calling for his partner, Dallon.  
  
  "Dallon!" Brendon yelled, turning in his chair. "Get over here!"  
  
  The taller man appeared in the doorframe, scratching at the back of his neck, grumbling to himself quietly. "What do you want? I was on the phone with Breezy."  
  
  "I don't care about your phone sex, c'mere," he gestured with his hand to the empty seat next to him, which Dallon plopped down into. "Do you know what this is? Like, have you seen it before? I don't think this...thing...has ever been recorded into any books or pictures - anything, really. It doesn't look familiar at all."  
  
  "Uh..." Dallon squinted, a confused look falling upon his face. "No, actually, that's really weird. Have you been messing with photoshop?"  
  
  "I'm not punking you, Weekes, I'm serious. Whatever this is, it's fucking weird," Brendon huffed, looking through his other pictures. The mysterious creature only had made it's appearance with its tail, it seemed.  
  
  "I'm gonna check it out  tomorrow," Brendon announced, gathering his stuff as he stood.  
  
  "Wait, Bren, you have to finish your - " Dallon was cut off by the slam of a door, sighing as his partner left the room, assumably to return home and take a nap. He could only imagine what would happen tomorrow, or what could go wrong.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Spencer looked around the ocean floor, picking up shells and observing them, inspecting their patterns and textures, tucking them between an arm and his chest as he went along. All of them were different in their own ways, some pretty, some not. Others were soft and smooth, or hard and lumpy, but he loved them all just the same.  
  
  He dumped the ones he'd picked up in front of a coral, where he would come back to them later, swimming up to the giant mass of whale that was one of the few friends he had. Currently, the enormous mammal was feeding, sucking krill through its bristle like teeth.  
  
  "Hi, Jon!" Spencer grinned, swimming up to his friends side, feeling along his skin. It wasn't scaly, like his tail and joints.  
  
  "I think I just ate Ryan," Jon moaned.  
  
  "Whoops," he shrugged. "There he goes. He lived a short life, may he rest in peace. Inside your stomach."  
  
  Jon nodded his dumb whale head.  
  
  "I saw a human in the water earlier," Spencer commented. "But I don't think he's ever been a merman."  
  
  "Not everyone is or has been a mermaid, Spence," Jon replied calmly, moving slowly. "Have you ever gone human before?"  
  
  "No," he mumbled, looking off to the side. "I don't think that their way of living life is right for me. Humans are weird."  
  
  "Yeah," Jon agreed. "They are."  
  
 - - - - -  
  
  Brendon woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee. His roommate, Shane, always made it for him before he awakened. He sat up with a smile on his face, excited for his day in the water. Today, he would fine the creature in the water he'd accidentally snapped photos of, only its tail showing in the background and such.  
  
  He headed into the dining room, greeting Shane with the nod of his head and grabbing of the coffee. He easily downed it, offering a smile.  
  
  "I'm gonna head out today," he announced.  
  
  "What? Do you have a job? I thought you were finished this week."  
  
  "I'm done, yeah, I just wanna go out for myself. Promise that I'll be back before five."  
  
  "Don't get eaten by anything."  
  
  Brendon laughed, grabbing his gear that didn't belong in the trunk and left the house for his car. He threw his stuff into the back seat, started the car, made sure he had enough gas and drove off towards the beach.  
  
  When he got there, he got into his suit, put on his underwater gear, and raced on the sand into the water, a huge smile underneath his mask as he reached the dip in the submerged ground, feeling weightless when he stepped off and into the deeper water. His gaze flickered around, searching for the little flash that he was absolutely, 100% sure was caused by the mystery fish. As he sunk further down, drifting closer to the sand, he noticed shells arranged in patterns, ranging for shape to color to texture, nothing a regular fish could figure out. He tilted his head curiously, silently wishing that he had brought his camera with him.  
  
  He stretched out his arm, reaching for one of the shells. His fingertips just barely grazed the surface before a hand suddenly lashed out of no where, grabbing his wrist. Brendon's breath hitched, his heart rate telling him _panicpanicpanic_ as he looked up from the shell to the hand that held his wrist, slowly moving up the arm until he was greeted by a face.  
  
  Time seemed to move in slow motion for Brendon, his golden brown gaze meeting brilliant blue ones. He observed the other, and holy shit, this guy isn't wearing anything, this guy has scales on his face and patches on his arms, he's got fins for ears and a dorsal fin, he has fucking gills, he has the tail that perfectly matches the one that was in Brendon's pictures, and Jesus fucking Christ, Brendon is looking at a _mermaid_.  
  
  So, of course, he screamed as best as one could underwater, which results in his mouth piece falling out. He struggled to calm down, grabbing the piece and stuffing it back between his lips, inhaling and exhaling repeatedly. He was going to die down here, he was going to die and nobody was going to know because he's going to get killed by a fucking mermaid.  
  
  The supposed-to-be mythical creature only tilted his head curiously, letting go of Brendon's wrist. He mouthed something, but Brendon couldn't hear anything, not even his thoughts, except for his blood pulsing, heart racing. He swims up, up, up, until he's breaking through the water and he has air. Shit, where's land?  
  
  Mermaid-boy decided it would be fun to follow him up, a smile on his face, eyes rounded. Brendon only stared at him, because once the foggy, terrified feeling cleared of his mind, he came to the conclusion that he's looking at a merman, and the fact that he's really fucking beautiful.  
  
  "Hi," the bizarre man said, voice softer than Brendon's ever heard. "Are you a human?"  
  
  Brendon can only swallow, nodding carefully.  
  
  "I saw you yesterday," he continued, "with that weird doo-hicky in your hands. What was that thing?"  
  
  "It - it's a camera," Brendon finally managed to reply, voice shaky. "It, um, captures the moment of things...so you can look at it over and over again."  
  
  He must be dreaming. Now he _really_ wished he had his camera.  
  
  "That's cool," the mermaid grinned wider, and oh lord, it made Brendon's heart do this weird floppy thing, forcing he himself to smile. Then again, a small part of him was terrified at the pointed, shark-like teeth. "I want to use a camera one day, I think. I'd capture a lot of moments."  
  
  "Maybe one day," he nodded. "A, uh - I'm Brendon." Should one tell a mermaid their name? It's not like he could tell anyone else, except fish, or something.  
  
  "Spencer!" Mermaid-boy, er, Spencer, replied.  
  
  "So...you're a mermaid...?" Brendon pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He's definitely not.  
  
  "Mer _man_ ," Spencer corrected.  
  
  "And...you're real?"  
  
  He nodded. "Um, I think so?"   
  
  Brendon's jaw dropped, eyes wide. He tentatively extended an arm out, reaching for Spencer, who watched him a little cautiously. He quickly took off his glove, pressing his hand onto the other's skin, chewing on his lower lip nervously.  
  
  Spencer raised his arm out of the water, his expression befuddled, watching Brendon's slender fingers trail down his skin, touching at the patch of scales on his elbow. They were smooth, though a little slimy. He continued up to his shoulders at the next patch, which were a little stiffer, harder than the ones on his shoulders.  
  
  "What are you doing?" Spencer spoke up, breaking the silence. Brendon shook his head, the sound of his voice breaking his trance.  
  
  "I - I don't know. It's just...I didn't really think you, er, your kind existed." Was that rude to say? He wasn't exactly sure. What counted as mermaid etiquette?  
  
  "I haven't met many others," he shrugged, slinking his hand back to his side. "One of my friends disappeared, though. I'm not sure where he went."  
  
  Oh, he knew alright.  
  
  He went human.  
  
  "I'm sorry," Brendon muttered sympathetically. He couldn't stop looking at the gorgeous man in front of him. Even if he was half fish, he was incredible to look at. He could be a model, maybe, if he were a human. His tail and other scales matched his eyes, and faint, white looking freckles were dappled along his cheeks and nose.  
  
  "Oh, it's fine! He's been gone for a really long time, actually, but in all honesty, I think he's okay!" Spencer said cheerfully, seeming a little too calm to Brendon, given his friend's current situation. He could be dead, and this guy didn't even bother to spare that thought. What a lovely life he's probably living, with that mind set.  
  
  Brendon tried to ignore the fact that he was talking to a mermaid right now, and focused on looking for wherever the fuck land is. He looked at Spencer in the corner of his eye, kicking his legs a bit so he could remain afloat.  
  
  "Uh...Do - do you know where land is?" He asked shyly, refusing to look at the fine piece of fish-dude in front of him.  
  
  "Yeah!" He nodded, looking around before dipping himself back underwater. Brendon was afraid that he was abandoning him after a couple of minutes passed, and the other hadn't arisen yet. His fears were proven wrong when that head of hair popped up once more, not even appearing as though he had a lack of breath. Oh, right, he had gills.  
  
  "It's that way," Spencer directed, pointing in the direction he claimed shore to be. Brendon would just have to put his trust in a complete stranger of a strange, mythical species. He never thought he'd ever have to say that.  
  
  "Thanks, Spence," he offered a weak smile.  
  
  "You're welcome, Brendon," he smiled back, and there's that little floppy feeling going off inside Brendon's heart again, right when he says his name.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Brendon promised Spencer that he would try to meet him again, seeing as the poor guy didn't have many friends, living in the ocean and all. And well, Brendon didn't either. Most people at work found him too energetic, too annoying for their calm lifestyles. They didn't know what they were missing out on.  
  
  He didn't tell anyone of his life changing experience, not even Dallon. It wasn't like anyone would believe him, anyways. They'd tell him he was delusional, or working with photoshop, something along those lines, and it'd hurt. So, his secret was his secret.  
  
  He wondered if he should bring his camera to their next meeting, but then decided that maybe it wouldn't be the best idea to let a mermaid handle a very expensive piece of equipment that they've never seen before.  
  
  When Brendon went to bed that night, curled up, blankets wrapped around him like he was a caterpillar and the blankets were his cocoon, he fell asleep to the thoughts of a certain fish boy, and dreamt of the same person as well.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  It was late. The sun was starting to set, just barely above the oceans horizon, the sky an artist's palette of reds, oranges, yellows, and a faint lavender (which totally didn't match his jacket. Nope). He adjusted his glasses, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the dock, watching the harsh water crash against the wooden poles that held it up.  
  
  He sighed happily, relaxing. Though he was typically a hyper energetic person, sometimes, he found joy in the serenity of moments like this, and was calm himself.  
  
  Of course, that changed when Spencer's head popped out of the water.  
  
  "You came back!" He grinned, shaking water out of his shaggy hair. He grabbed onto the edge of the dock, propping himself up with his elbows. Brendon watched his every movement, absolutely mesmerized.  
  
  "Yeah, Spence," Brendon whispered, shifting his position. He went from sitting criss-cross-applesauce, to lying down, his head leaning against his arms, inches from Spencer's fingers. The corners of his lips curved upwards, beaming at him.  
  
  "Did you bring your camera thingy?" Spencer inquired, ear-fins twitching.  
  
  "No, I'm sorry," he shook his head, drumming his fingers on his arms.  
  
  "That's okay. I brought you something," Spencer said, disappearing back down into the water. He came back up, holding out his hand, dropping something shiny onto the dock, water pooling around it.  
  
  "What's this?" Brendon asked, picking it up daintily. Upon further inspection, he recognized the object to be a compass.  
  
  "I don't know," he shrugged. "The sharp red thingy always points that way." Spencer pointed north, then put his arm back down on the dock. "I think it's cool."  
  
  "It's called a compass," he explained. "The red arrow always points north. It helps you get a sense of direction when you're lost."  
  
  "Woah..." Spencer tilted his head, taking it back. He twisted it around in his hands, fiddling with it, his intense blue eyes lit up with interest and amazement. "And you guys make this kind of stuff all the time?"  
  
  "Yep," Brendon nodded, laughing softly.  
  
  Spencer only stared in awe, eventually dropping the compass, letting it sink back down into the water, onto the sand, likely to be buried by a fish.  
  
  "What's it like being a human?" He asked suddenly, voice timid.  
  
  "Uh..." Brendon furrowed a brow, trying to think. "I'm not actually sure how to explain it. It's - it's a lot. Stressful. Fun. Different. There's people all over the world, with different purposes and stuff. Y'know?"  
  
  "Yeah," he nodded, "I guess so."  
  
  "What's being a mermaid like?"  
  
  "Wet."  
  
  "Spence!" Brendon snorted, shoving his arms off of the dock so that he would fall back into the water. "I'm serious!"  
  
  "Hi, Serious," he giggled, "I'm Spencer."  
  
  "Spencerrr."  
  
  "Fine, fine. um...It's normal for me. Underwater. Legless. Kind of noisy, because all of these fish never shut up."  
  
  "You can understand fish?"  
  
  "You can't?"  
  
  "Um, no."  
  
  "Humans are lamer than I thought," Spencer remarked plainly, his beautiful laugh echoing throughout Brendon's ears.  
  
  They talked for a while, comparing differences between their species, explaining things that the other didn't have access to to each other. Brendon's smile never seemed to leave his face, and Spencer's adorable laughs never stopped.  
  
  So they sat there, enjoying each other's company until Brendon realized the day had left him, and his phone was flooded with concerned texts from Shane. He told Spencer he had to go, that he would come by again. As he left for his car, he felt his heart racing, pounding in his chest.  
  
 _Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  It took Brendon a week from meeting Spencer to realize that he was in love with him. Full on, head over heels in love. It struck him hard like lightning in the middle of the night as he stared outside his window, thinking of Spencer and only Spencer. And it was bad.  
  
  It was getting in the way of his work. Instead of taking millions of pictures of sea life like he should, he took a couple, then waited in their typical meeting spot when he was on a job (the cliffs at the beach) for the mermaid to come and find him so they could chatter away like there was no  tomorrow.  
  
  It was taking time away from his other friends. He'd constantly get texts and calls and voicemails from his friends, asking him if he wanted to hang out, and then more saying that they'd decided to cancel their plans with him, that they had other things to do. Eventually they stopped, except for the mere couple of "we seriously need to get drinks or something," or "where the hell are you?" that he would usually get from Dallon or Ian.  
  
  So, to fix things with his job and his buddies, he started spending less time with Spencer. He didn't go to their meeting spot as often, he showed up at the docks less, and it hurt, shit, it hurt his heart, and he hated it.  
  
  The night he does show up at the docks, he waited nearly an hour before Spencer comes by. His face wasn't showing that smile Brendon loves so much, it's this look of _betrayal_ , and it _hurthurthurt_  so fucking much to the point where it's unbearable for him to handle.  
  
  Brendon could only leaned over the dock, cup his cheeks and kiss him.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  After that night, it was Spencer's turn to stop showing up.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Brendon doesn't cry. Brendon doesn't cry, because he's a man, and men aren't supposed to cry. Or, at least, that's what the media says, anyways.  
  
  So, he doesn't know why he found himself crying his heart out on the edge of the dock, curling in on himself. He doesn't know why he's sobbing nonstop into his fists over some mermaid he met two weeks ago, some random guy who lives in the ocean that he kind accidentally of fell in love with. He _really_ doesn't know why he's crying.  
  
  Brendon tried to ignore the sound of himself breaking down, but it's all he could really hear. That's why he didn't hear the little splash of water, the sound of someone plopping down next to him on the hard wood. And he's so busy crying into his hands that he didn't notice when someone gently pulled them away, holding them, and brushed their soft, plush lips against his.  
  
  He opened his eyes when whoever it was (Spencer, of course it's Spencer) pulled away, touching his forehead to his. He was met with those familiar, striking blue eyes that he wanted to stare into for an eternity. Spencer lifted his hand to Brendon's cheek, wiping away his tears with his thumb, expression soft, warm, a look that felt kind of like home.  
  
  "Hey, Brendon," he murmured softly, twisting his hand to cup his cheek.  
  
  "Spencer," Brendon hiccuped, throwing his arms around him. He didn't care that he was getting his shirt soaked, or that he was still crying. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer."  
  
  "M'here, Brendon," he continued, hugging him back with one arm, rubbing circles into his back. "I'm here."  
  
  "Spencer," he cried again, tightening his grip.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  "I think I'm in love with you, Spencer," Brendon broke the silence, leaning his head on Spencer's shoulder when he propelled himself up onto the dock, sitting down next to Brendon. "I think I fell in love with you when I first met you."  
  
  "What's love, Brendon?" Spencer asked, draping an arm around Brendon's shoulders.  
  
  He took Spencer's free hand, giving it a small squeeze. "It's that feeling you get, when you see someone you care about a lot," he started to explain, "and your heartbeat picks up a little, you kinda feel like you wanna go a million cartwheels down a steep hill, you can't stop smiling, and you just wanna sing your heart out, really."  
  
  "Huh," he blinked. "I think I'm in love with you too, Brendon."  
  
  Brendon's eyes lit up, and he surged forwards, wrapping his arms around Spencer's neck as he kissed him. Spencer had to put an arm back behind him to steady himself so that they didn't fall off the dock, laughing into the kiss.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Brendon wandered along the beach, glancing up at the cliffs that towered over him. He picked up shards of glass and sea shells, tossing them in a pile on the sand.  
  
  He looked over his shoulder as Spencer dragged himself onto shore, running over to go and greet him. He noticed his slightly shorter hair, his bangs no longer sticking to his face from the weight of all the water, not tickling below his shoulders. It was actually just barely touching his shoulders now, maybe an inch or so off.  
  
  He smiled at him, wading through the water, crouching down next to him. Brendon ran his fingers through Spencer's hair, scritch-scratching behind his fins until they wiggled a bit, getting a giggle out of the both of them.  
  
  "You cut your hair," he remarked, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  
  
  "Mhmm," Spencer nodded.  
  
  "How?"  
  
  "With shells," he replied, giving Brendon a look that pretty much said, 'what do you use?'  
  
  "Shells?" Brendon blinked.  
  
  "Yeah!" Spencer grinned, putting up a finger. "Give me a moment."  
  
  He watched him slink back into the water, light reflecting off of his scales before his tail disappeared with the rest of his body. Like usual, it always took him a couple of minutes until he came back, given his amazing underwater travel speed.  
  
  Spencer swam over to the rocks, carefully pulling himself up onto one of the smoother, flatter looking ones, as not to damage his tail. Brendon head over to him, sitting down on the empty space next to him.  
  
  "Close your eyes, and hold out your hands," Spencer instructed, hands behind his back, refusing to reveal the shell.  
  
  "Okay," Brendon nodded, grinning stupidly as he did so, waiting patiently. "My eyes are closed, and my hands are held out."  
  
  He placed the shell into his hands with great delicacy, voice full of excitement. "Okay, okay, you can open your eyes now!"  
  
  He opened his eyes, dark brown gaze flicking to the object in his hands. It wasn't just a single shell, it was a collection of them crafted incredibly together to form a blade-like object. The bottom piece, a hermit crab shell, likely acting as a hilt, had pearls and other pretty pieces of different shells stuck to it somehow.  
  
  Brendon turned it around in his hands, tracing his fingers around the hilt, amazed by how neat the craftsmanship of the knife was. He then carefully ran his index finger over what acted as the blade, careful not to cut his finger.  
  
  Spencer watched him with wide eyes, an expectant look on his face, eyes glimmering as brightly as the sun. He continued to fiddle with it, inspecting the blade piece, the fact that it looked carved out intriguing him.  
  
  "Do you like it?" Spencer asked timidly, drumming his fingers against the rock quickly and repeatedly.  
  
  "Spence, it's incredible!" He looked up at him, eyes wide. He watched as Spencer's cheek flushed a light blue - huh, blue, - his strangely white freckles becoming more prominent. "Did you make this...?" He questioned.  
  
  "Yeah," he nodded vigorously, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "We, uh, I spent my entire childhood, learning how to make one. And then I made my own. Everyone makes one when they're older...I have a couple, but they take a long time to make. And, uh, that one is my favorite," he finished, smiling sheepishly.  
  
  "Wow," Brendon muttered, stretching his arm out to hand it back. He raised a brow when Spencer shook his head.  
  
  "I want you to have it," he said. Surely Brendon understood the importance, the meaning behind giving your significant other your handmade knife?  
  
  "Are you sure?"  
  
  "Yeah," he confirmed, looking confident in his decision. Brendon was hesitant, so he had to know, of course! It was so rare to give up a personal blade, so he wanted to know if he'd really meant it or not. Duh.  
  
  Brendon smiled, leaning forward to give him a kiss, which he, of course, gratefully accepted, pulling him in close.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  So, maybe Brendon's a little stupid when he walked into work one day, finding Dallon standing in the doorway of their office, a mixed expression on his face that he couldn't read, though the crossed arms sent him some bad vibes.  
  
  "Brendon," he said firmly, nodding his head in towards the room. "Get in here. I've really gotta talk to you about something. Something important."  
  
  He followed Dallon into their office, chewing his lip nervously as the taller man closed the door behind him, hearing the click of a lock. Brendon went to sit down in his spinny-chair, swerving back and forth until Dallon placed his hand on the back of it, stopping his movement.  
  
  "Do you believe in ghosts?" He asked, eyes narrow.  
  
  Wait, what?  
  
  "Um...sure?" He replied, looking confused.  
  
  "Aliens? Werewolves? Bigfoot?"  
  
  "...Sure?"  
  
  "Okay..." Dallon took a deep breath, replacing his fierce expression with an energetic grin, bouncing on his heels. "What about mermaids?"  
  
  A wave of panic rushed over Brendon, gripping the arms of his chair tightly. He cringed, shaking his head. "No, Dallon, no. Mermaids aren't real."  
  
  "Oh, come _on_ , Urie!" He hissed, turning to his computer. "You believe in all those other things, so why not mermaids! Here - look at this." He yanked on Brendon's arm, pulling him forwards as he rapidly clicked on folders, opening up pictures, browsing through them.  
  
  "Look," he demanded, displaying a group of pictures to Brendon. They were blurred out, but he could faintly make out...Spencer, shit, shit, shit.  
  
  "I promise it's not photoshop, I don't even know how to use it, I'm serious, I really saw this!" Dallon jabbed his finger at the computer monitor, eyes wild. "I saw this in the water, and look, it - its tail even matches those pictures that you took around like, what, a month ago? So I'm not lying! We have proof of mermaids, Brendon!"  
  
  "You're delusional," he winced as he practically spat out the insult, upset that he'd have to call his lover unreal, fake, non-existent.  
  
  "I'm not, Brendon, I swear," Dallon tried, frowning. "C'mon, you gotta believe me, man."  
  
   He looked around nervously, uncertain. "Can you keep a secret, Dallon?"  
  
  "Sure, Bren," he raised a brow, "but why are you changing the subject?"  
  
  "Trust me, Dallon, it's got a lot to do with this."  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Brendon told Dallon everything about Spencer. He told him how he met him, how, yes, those are pictures of him, and that no, he hasn't met any other mermaids. He told him (a little embarrassedly) about their relationship, and then nothing more.  
  
  He took him to meet him, introduced the two to each other, praying that they'd get along (which they did! Oh joy).  
  
  And, of course, he made Dallon swear to secrecy, that he would delete all his pictures of Spencer, and say nothing about him to anyone. He thanked him several times for being such a good friend about it, thanked him for being trustworthy, thanked him for keeping his big stupid fucking mouth shut about the whole thing.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  "I made you something," Brendon said to Spencer, fiddling with his coat pockets. Spencer watched him from below the dock, head tilted in that cute way that reminded him of a puppy, as well as the occasional twitch of his fins.  
  
  He leaned over the edge, holding out a shell necklace to the mermaid. Spencer took it from his hands, unsure what to do with it. Brendon laughed heartily, taking it back and placing it over his head, carefully moving it down to around his neck.  
  
  Spencer smiled, thumbing at each shell. "These are really pretty, Brendon," he commented, lifting the necklace over his head. "But they'll scrape at my neck when I'm swimming. I'll hang it up in my home, I promise!"  
  
  Brendon nodded in understanding, taking his hand. "Alright, Spence."  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  He hadn't even realized when the moon came up, hovering above the horizon, stars beginning to show up and freckle the sky. He sat on the beach, watching the waves crash down on the sand in front of him, then reeling back in. It took a while for Spencer to show up, but he didn't mind, because now he was with him.  
  
  Brendon smiled as Spencer pulled himself up to the shallower water where Brendon sat, pulling him in for a kiss, lips soft against his. Brendon kissed all over his face and around his neck, especially his cute little nose that he loved so much.  
  
  Spencer giggled, settling his hands on Brendon's hips, thumbs tracing circles into them. Brendon curled his legs around the others waist, making sure to be careful of his dorsal fin (he didn't want to harm it, there were already plenty of little rips and tears), feet just barely submerged in the water. He kissed him again, running a hand through his hair, front to back, finally settling on the back of his neck.  
  
  He nibbled on Spencer's lower lip a little (though Spencer couldn't do the same, what with his pointed teeth and all), kisses growing more passionate, more desperate and needy for touch. Spencer cupped his cheek, pulling away, blue eyes darkened.  
  
  Brendon took a moment to look at the beautiful merman in front of him. With the darkened sky, leaving them together in the night, circles going down Spencer's sides - well as his freckles - glowed brightly, illuminating the area and water around them. He honestly couldn't help but want to kiss him more, want to touch him more, just want, want, want  Spencer. He kissed him harder, rougher, needier, slinging his arms around his neck, deepening the kiss until _Spencer_ was the one pulling away to breathe, and he had gills. Brendon's cheeks were flushed red, eyes darkened with lust, and oh man, for a fish, the sight of him made Spencer's mouth go dry.  
  
  "Brendon," Spencer murmured, and fuck, Brendon hadn't even realized he was hard against his own stomach until the merman shifted between his legs, belly grazing over his hard-on slightly. "Brendon, fuck."  
  
  "Spence, Spence," he whined.  
  
  Spencer blinked, trailing his hand down Brendon's chest to his stomach, then settling over the evident bulge in his not very restrictive swim trunks, cocking a brow as the other whimpered softly underneath him.  
  
  Brendon bit down on his lip, looking up at him needily.  
  
  He totally didn't get a handjob from a mermaid that night.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Brendon sighed happily, body sprawled across the sand, arm draped over Spencer's stomach, head leaning against his shoulder. He laced his fingers together with the mermaids', humming a tune to himself quietly as they gazed up at the stars.  
  
  "There are these things called constellations," Brendon whispered, squeezing the other's hand, "and basically they're groups of stars, that make pictures in the sky. And there's billions of stars way up there, in space, and even more constellations to go with them."  
  
  Spencer nodded in understanding, gaze shifting as he searched for the pictures that Brendon had just told him about. He tilted his head, lifting his free arm, pointing upwards.  
  
  "What's that one look like to you, Brendon?"  
  
  "That's Leo, the lion," he smiled.  
  
  "I like that one."  
  
  "Me too, Spence, me too."  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Brendon decided to take a day off, having wanted to spend the day with his super-secret mermaid boyfriend, though he had to tell him the day before so Spencer would know to come by early, and not in the late afternoon or evening.  
  
  Surprisingly, the mermaid had fallen asleep by the time it was almost  noon, the end of his tail dipped in the water, curled up on the rocks as waves crashed over him, going just barely up to his chest like salt water blankets.  
  
  He sat higher up on the rock as not to get wet, leaning forward, fingers tangled in Spencer's hair, which was returning to it's former length prior to his hair cut rather rapidly, much faster than a human's hair growth.  
  
  The corners of his lips curved upwards, hinting at a smile as he looked over him, finally being able to take in every detail. He did one skim over of Spencer's body before doing a complete, full on inspection, sliding down the rock slightly to get a closer view.  
  
  The first thing he noticed were the small tears in his fins, likely from fin-nippers, as they called them at the aquarium. Second were scars from missing scales, though luckily he'd only had few of those. A few more and he'd be very, very vulnerable to common fish illnesses. Or would he be? He wasn't exactly a mermaid expert.  
  
  He was also enabled to finally get a closer look at the spots trailing down his sides, which began to glow as the darkness settled in. A couple had what looked like scratches on them, causing them to be dimmer than their healthier matches. Brendon clicked his tongue, upset to think that his boyfriend suffered damage in the oceanic world. What was he supposed to expect, though? Him to come out of the dangerous waters picture perfect?  
  
  Brendon traced his fingers over the glow-spots, leathery to ones touch, assuming that they were equivalent to certain predatory fish that had luminescent teeth and such, to attract prey, unless they were simply there for the beauty. He figured that the first theory would make much more sense than the second.  
  
  He yanked his hand away when Spencer shifted, worried that he had woke him up, but the fear quickly faded when his adorable fish-boyfriend remained in his slumber. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his scaly-cheek.  
  
  Oh, yeah. He always thought that it was interesting that Spencer, instead of having hair, had scales acting as a beard. Upon inspecting his face, he recognized the faint white freckles scattered amongst his cheek that glowed almost as brightly as the spots going down his sides, giving off just the dimmest light. His boyfriend was carrying an entire universe with him, and unfortunately, he didn't even know it.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
  Three months. Three whole months they'd been dating, and it flew by like a robin early on a Sunday morning. Though, of course, for Spencer, it'd have swam by like some fish, or whatever, as Brendon liked to say.  
  
  He brought Spencer sushi one night for their little three month anniversary "celebration," which was, well, not much of a celebration at all. Being together that night was just enough for them, in all honesty.  
  
  "Isn't eating fish, like, cannibalism for you?"  
  
  "No," Spencer shook his head, grinning, showing off those spiky teeth that terrified Brendon so much. "Fish eat fish, too. So I can eat fish. Now, if I ate another mermaid, well, that would be cannibalism."  
  
  "Right," Brendon laughed. "Stop picking things off the plate with your hands! Those chopsticks are there for a reason."  
  
  "But using my hands is so much easier," he complained, picking up the chopsticks. Immediately, instead of using them for their proper use, he began drumming them on the dock, much to Brendon's dismay.  
  
  "Here," Brendon grumbled, trying to restrain the smug grin that was beginning to grow on his face, "eat this green stuff. It's really good on it's own."  
  
  Spencer took the chunk of wasabi that Brendon was pointing at off of the plate, unaware of it's taste. He was suspicious of the smirk that his boyfriend displayed, but nonetheless tossed it into his mouth.  
  
  As soon as his tastebuds started to act up, he spit it out onto the dock, horror reflecting in his widened eyes. He ducked underwater, furiously trying to cool down his mouth, becoming grumpy when he emerged to the sound of Brendon's cackling.  
  
  "You're mean," he said bitterly.  
  
  "I love you," Brendon replied.

  "So, what's that thing you brought in your bag that you told me about?" Spencer asked, his mouth still tingling.

  "It's called a laptop," he explained, taking it out, powering it up. "You can do a lot of things on them, and I'm not going to go into detail, because it'd take hours to do, and then you'd probably ask over a million questions that I wouldn't have any time to answer."

  Spencer rolled his eyes, shifting so that he was in a more comfortable position, arms weary from holding him up on the dock for so long. "I would not," he muttered, even though Brendon was absolutely right. "Show me some of the stuff that is does, nerd human!"

  "I'm not a nerd!" Brendon protested, scrolling through his iTunes. He wanted to show Spencer some movies, _Finding Nemo_ being at the top of the list. What better movie to show a mermaid? Maybe a movie about a mermaid, but he thought that Spencer would talk too much, debunking every wrong theory, which would eventually get annoying.

  He turned the screen towards him, adjusting his position on the dock so he could view it as well, pressing play. "This is called a movie, Spence. They're usually a little over one hour, sometimes two, and their purpose is to serve as entertainment for us "nerdy humans." I think you'll like this one, 'cause it's about fish."

  The mermaid blinked, cocking his head in interest, pupils blown as it started.

 

 

  Brendon definitely did not regret showing him the movie. Spencer did make some commentary on how turtles don't talk like that, or how sharks definitely don't think fish are friends. He was in tears at the beginning, thinking it was so incredibly sad that Nemo lost his mom. Actually, scratch that, he was in tears for the entire thing. He made Brendon promise to show him more of these "movie thingies," to which Brendon compromised with a "how about every Monday?" The agreed and settled for Movie Night Monday, watching more things like  _Dolphin Tale_ or  _The Incredible Mr. Limpet_.

  He really seemed to like  _The Little Mermaid_. Brendon often caught him singing songs from its soundtrack when he first arrived to visit him, despite Spencer's desperate denials. He only laughed and sang them to him instead when he refused to keep going, even playing the audio off of his iPod.

  The next day, he introduced him to legos, having brought them just for the fun of it. He had a little baggy full of them, the size of a regular sandwich bag, filled with the plastic pieces. Brendon dumped them out onto the dock, sorting them as Spencer watched curiously.

  "What's that, Brendon?" He reached out to grab one of the pieces, inspecting it with caution, as though it was dangerous.

  "It's a lego. You build things with them," Brendon answered, making a little house as a demonstration. "See? It's a house."

  Spencer tilted his head, taking the house into his hands, sniffing at it. He put it back down on the dock, copying Brendon's build with the leftover pieces, a small smile tugging at his lips as he worked. He held his masterpiece up to him when he was finished, baring his teeth with a wide grin. "Look, Bren, I did it!"

  "Hey, you did!" Brendon chuckled, placing it down next to his own little creation. "I don't use these a lot. Do you want them?"

  Spencer nodded yes. 

  And that happy little mermaid totally did not build more things each time Brendon brought him legos, totally did not make a model of him and Brendon holding hands ("I couldn't make my tail because I didn't have enough pieces," he explained, "so I just gave myself legs. Is that okay?") since he hadn't known that there were already tiny Lego people already. But Brendon thought it was adorable, and he put it on a shelf in his room, hiding it behind a book so Shane wouldn't walk in one day, see it and ask him a bajillion questions about it.

  
\- - - - -  
  
  Panic.  
  
  All Spencer could think of right now was panic, panic, panic.  
  
  He thrashed about violently in the net that surrounded him, rope digging into his skin, cutting at his arms and chest. He could hear people hooting from above the water, something about "catching a big one," and he just fucking _knew_ that they meant him, that they thought he was probably some large fish, a good catch. It bothered him, being some object to them, but he knew that he wasn't supposed to be real, that he wasn't supposed to be known about. If they caught him, if he let them catch him, he'd lose Brendon. And Spencer wasn't going to let that happen.  
  
  He hissed, gnawing at the ropes with his pointed teeth, desperate to get out. His blood flowed in the water around him, attracting other fish which nipped as his arms and fingers, fins and tail. Spencer wanted to grab those little fish and squeeze the life out of them, adrenaline getting to the better, more humane side of him.  
  
  He needed _Brendonbrendonbrendon_ , he would help, he would get him out of this mess, only the problem was that he wasn't here, and that he _couldn't help_. He couldn't come and save Spencer from what was about to happen, and it  _enraged_ him,  _infuriated_ him to the point where he didn't feel like doing anything except fight.

  Spencer kept biting, kept chewing, and it's kind of like those rats in cartoons when the good guy is hanging over a pot of acid or lava, and they're nibbling away at the rope, they're the reason that the good guy is going to fall into his bath of death, but then someone saves him, and the rats probably die in his place.  
  
  His situation is kind of like that, except he's the good guy and the rat, and he's probably going to die anyways, because there's no hero to save him right now. He wished that Jon wasn't a dumb fucking whale, that he was a mermaid or a human or something that could help him, something with hands or spiky teeth and not bristles like a shitty human toothbrush.  
  
  He was really surprised when he actually got out, when he fucking ripped that rope, and started shredding it to pieces, taking out all that anger that built up in a matter of minutes, releasing all the fish that were in there with him. He water-slapped away all the little fish that nipped and bit him, and got out of there as fast as one could say "bye, fuckers!"  
  
  There's only one thing that ran through Spencer's mind, and it was still _Brendonbrendonbrendon_. He didn't know what time it was, if Brendon was waiting for him at the dock or the rocks, because all he could smell was his own blood, and he was swimming too fast for him to even so much as spare a second to look up and try to distinguish the time from the light.  
  
  He ended up bumping into a couple of things, and it kind of messed with his head. From the adrenaline rush, the anger, and the loss of blood, he couldn't think straight, he couldn't see straight, he just needed Brendon. Spencer managed to be smart enough to get something around his cuts and scrapes, just some crappy sea-weed which totally wasn't going to help at all, and then he went back to swimming, trying to get to shore, trying to get to his boyfriend. He could barely make out the rise in the sand that showed he was close to land.  
  
  When he finally reaches that lift in the sand, finally reaches the shore, he hears a familiar voice call his name, and then everything goes black.  
  
  
  
  "Spencer!" Brendon called, a smile on his face. As he ran over, sand warm beneath his toes, his grin dropped like it was hot. He skid on the sand, going down to his knees, kneeling before Spencer on the beach.  
  
  "Spencer?" He tried again, voice faltering. He easily spotted the open wounds scattered along his torso thanks to the seaweed unwrapping itself. "Shit, shit, shit."  
  
  He bit down on his lip harshly, scooping up the seemingly lifeless mermaid in his arms, anxiety giving him spaghetti-legs. He stumbled over his own feet as he rushed to his car, struggling to get Spencer into the trunk when he reached there, a quick rush of relief flooding him at the fact that wow, he made it to his car without _anyone_ seeing him carrying a, y'know, a god damned motherfucking merperson. As soon as he was driving, he called Dallon, wincing as he heard the occasional pained whimper or groan from the injured myth in the back of his car.  
  
  "Dallon, fuck, I need you at my house A.S.A.P. There's a key in my mailbox, go to my bathroom and run some water in the bath tub, and get out a shit ton of bandages. Spencer, he's - I found him on the beach, Dallon, he's hurt real bad. I'm really scared, please help."

  
  "Okay," Dallon replied quickly, alarm in his voice. He grabbed his own car keys, unsure what to expect of this situation.  
  
  "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, and uh, if Shane is home? Make sure he leaves, for the love of god."  
  
  
  
  Dallon helped Brendon get Spencer out of his car and into his home, up the stairs, to the bathroom and carefully helping to properly bandage him before sinking him into the tub, which was filled with warm water.  
  
  He scrunched up his nose as he watched the water turn blue from his blue hued blood seeping out of the bandages. Although his scrapes weren't all too deep (at least, not enough for stitches), they were still painful looking. Dallon pat Brendon on the back, wrapping his arms around him when he started to cry.  
  
  "Bren, he'll be fine, I promise you."  
  
  "I'm scared for him."  
  
  "I know, Bren. Me too."  
  
  
  
  After a while, Dallon had to leave, needing to tend to his wife and kids, as that's what a married man typically does. Brendon curled up outside the bathroom door, hugging his legs up to his chest, face buried in his knees. He needed to calm down, to stop worrying, assure himself that Spencer was going to be fine. What could have caused all those scratches, though? He got up, frantically pacing around the room, trying to theorize.

  At the aquarium, some fish tended to nip at others fins. He did have a couple of more tears in his fins than usual, but those would heal easily, and those weren't exactly the main problem, either. He scratched at his chin, biting his nails nervously. Maybe he had a run in with a shark? No, he would _definitely_ be more hurt than that. And he'd have those huge bites, too. If he ran into a shark, he'd probably be dead, but oh god, oh god, Brendon definitely did _not_ want to think about Spencer being dead, not now, not ever. He cared about him way too much to have those kind of thoughts.

  The faint, blue bruise-looking marks across some parts of his arms and chest were in a grid pattern, like a waffle iron, or a net -

  A net! Fuck, fuck, he probably got caught in a fishing net, that must have been so painful for him, oh god, oh god, Spencer. Brendon felt tears beginning to well up in his eyes again, but he was quickly overcome by surprise when he heard a loud _thump_ come from behind the bathroom door, the sound of scrabbling and water splashing. He stepped towards the bathroom, shakily grabbing the doorknob, uncertainty tingling inside his bones. When he twisted it, pushing the door open, he didn't know what he expected. Spencer looked up at Brendon from the floor, and holy shit, he's got legs, he's _human_ , and he's kind of naked in Brendon's bathroom.

  Brendon can only stare while Spencer grabs the edge of the bath tub, struggling to stand up. He noticed that he still had those little spots on his sides, which were red, red, red, sending a chilling spark of concern down Brendon's spine. He reached out a hand to help him up, except, Spencer's wrapping his fingers around his wrist, holding it a little too tight for his comfort, and he's starting to feel a little threatened, a little scared. He didn't like that feeling, he didn't like feeling it around Spencer, it was making him way too nervous.

  "Spencer, you're human, you're -"

_"Really fucking pissed off, Brendon."_

  Oh. His eyes flew up to meet Spencer's, which were dark and narrow, full of a kind of fury that Brendon never wanted to see again. He tried to yank his arm away, tried to escape his grip, but he only tightened his hold on him. Brendon whimpered quietly, which caused Spencer to finally let go, his expression softening. 

  "Brendon," Spencer said in a rather condescending tone, "how long, exactly, have I been human?"

  "I - I don't know...maybe a couple of hours?" 

  "Fuck!" He shouted, kicking at the tub, quickly slipping on the pool of water at his feet. He yelled again in pain as he hit the floor, spots practically flashing the bright red color that they displayed, nails scrabbling at the tile floor. He hissed, upset with the fact that he had, well, sea legs.

  "Spence, calm down. You aren't gonna get very far if you keep getting frustrated like that," said Brendon, nervously. 

  Spencer nodded, breathing harsh and angry. If he wasn't so terrified right now, Brendon would find the entire situation rather amusing, what with his now-human mermaid boyfriend naked on his bathroom floor, fighting with himself in the attempt to try and stand up. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, and it probably never would be.

  "Brendon, listen to me," he said, growing anxious, "I turn human when I'm completely dry, or in different waters for too long. And if I'm human for too long, I stay human. That's what happened to my friend Brent." He was shaking by this point, fingers trembling. "I need to get back to the ocean. Please, please, do this for me."

  Brendon stared, jaw gaping, hesitant as he helped his lover up. "We should - we should get you dressed first, then."

  "Okay."

 

 

  As much as Brendon liked the thought of seeing Spencer in his clothes, his shirts and pants, they had to settle for swim shorts, seeing as that'd be much quicker for Spencer to take off and get back into the water. He had to help him get used to using legs, linking his arm with Spencer's and walking him around the room until he got the hang of it and could do it all by himself. It made Brendon think of the song  _Put One Foot In Front Of The Other_ , from the movie  _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_ , which he totally didn't sing for him, trying to lighten up the mood of the situation.

  Although he was upset, Spencer couldn't help but be amazed by Brendon's every day objects. The TV, the toaster, everything in general. Especially the car. He clambered into the passenger's seat, eyes round with surprise, curious as a kitten as he started pushing buttons, turning on the windshield wipers, or the radio. Brendon slapped his hand away, giggling. 

  "This box thingy is making noise, Brendon."

  "I know. It's called a radio, and it's playing music."

  "I like it."

  "I like you."

  Spencer stopped, looking down at his feet, he had  _feet_ and  _toes_ and everything he wasn't supposed to normally have. "Take me to the ocean, Brendon," he mumbled, turning his head to stare out the window in utter silence. Brendon shifted uncomfortably, starting up the car. Spencer had to pretend to not be excited with the technology, the weird thing that made them move.

 

 

  He ran onto the beach. He ran, ran, ran until he was tripping over his legs, feeling all the soft sand and dry shells that washed up on shore. He looked up at the sun, which was beginning to set, alarm settling into his face. Turning to look at Brendon, he blinked once, twice, the wind making his hair flow, like a scene in some dumb romance movie. Brendon gave him a pained expression, stepping forward to hug him. Gladly, he accepted the hug, though his arms and chest were still hurting, still aching from the scratches. 

  In silence, he pulled away, slowly walking towards and then into the water, disappearing. Brendon watched in horror, in fear that he wouldn't turn back, that it was too late, and he could never be a mermaid again. Spencer would  _hate_ him if that happened, and oh god, he really needs to stop thinking like this.

  The lack of Spencer rising back to surface and gasping for breath gave Brendon his answer. He was back to normal, he was safe, he wasn't going to hate him. But he couldn't forget that look back in the bathroom, that expression of anger and fury and  _hatred_ , he just wanted to forget it all. 

  So when he drove back home and locked himself in his room, drowned himself in the few drinks they had inside their fridge, and cried until he couldn't hear Shane banging on his door, yelling his name and telling him to come out. This time, he didn't pretend to not know why he was crying. He was crying over someone he cared about, who got hurt and he tried to help, but resulted in some big mess. He got up, opening the door to his bedroom, staring at Shane before falling into his arms, sobbing into his chest. Shane only patted his back, confused, before pulling an extremely drunk Brendon over to the couch, attempting to comfort him.

  Luckily, he didn't spew off to his room mate about how he was dating a mermaid, about everything he's done with him and kept him a secret for the past couple of months. He woke up the next morning, hugging the pillow of his bed (how did he get here? Did Shane help him back to his room?), a gross taste in his mouth - he must of thrown up the night before - and a killer head ache. He sighed as he sat up, trying to work past the hangover that he was experience, heading to the kitchen and downing a glass of water. He then took an Advil, then slumped into a chair behind the dining table, sighing.

  Brendon didn't have the energy to cry anymore. He really didn't. 

 

  Work was normal again. He was back to taking pictures of all those dumb fish in their dumb habitat, except it wasn't as exciting anymore. Editing and touching up with photoshop wasn't as thrilling as it used to be, and even Dallon noticed that something was up, but he didn't want to try and ask. A gloomy Brendon was difficult to predict - he would either lash out with words like knives, or silently weep until he was over himself. He moped in his office, toying with pencils and papers until finally Ian is snapping at him, yelling at him, saying "what the fuck is wrong with you?" And it's so unlike him, it hurts, and Brendon decided that he needed to get the fuck out of there, go for a walk, clear his head.

  He grabbed his bag and just left the office, ignoring the chaos that was starting behind him, refusing to listen to the arguing voices of Ian and Dallon, tuning out the concerned calls of his name from the security guy, Zack, at the door. He put it all behind him, walking down the sidewalk like he was in a trance, unsure of where he was going except for knowing the fact that it was  _somewhere._ He quietly hummed the _Over the Rainbow & What a Wonderful World_ to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets, gazing up at the sky. Brendon couldn't hear anything else except for the rush of cars, the sound of his own footsteps. 

  He wasn't surprised to find himself soon enough at a lack of breath, his sides aching when he doesn't stop to get a bottle of water some where. He just kept walking, walking, walking, until suddenly he heard crashes of waves, the calls of sea gulls, and the faint sound of kids and other people laughing, talking, doing something other than  _work_ , which Brendon should be getting back to, go back to his office and finish his edits and go home with his paycheck, but he's probably lost his job for just walking out with no words. He pushes the thought out of his mind, every little sound of the beach calming him, relaxing him.

  He walked to his meeting spot with Spencer behind the cliffs, sitting down on one of the rocks, looking out into the water. The waves rolled against the rocks, sending salt water up into the air, looking like a painting. He sat cross-legged, humming a tune. He suddenly wished that he had his guitar, a pencil, and some paper, both empty sheet music and looseleaf. Brendon looked around quickly before rummaging in his bag, scavenging for at least two of the items he wanted. He found a paper and a pen (which was just as good as a pencil, he supposed), and started to scrawl down letters, words, sentences across the page, the entire world around him turning into a whole different scene, a new universe, and he completely lost himself. Brendon just kept writing and writing and writing, practically pouring his heart out onto a single sheet of paper.

  Night fell, and he hadn't even noticed. He heard his phone buzz, letting it ring for a few seconds until it was about to direct whoever was calling to voice mail before picking up. He listened to somebody yell at him for the millionth time that day, barely listening to a single word. 

  "I don't care," he said suddenly, as he began to recognize Shane's voice. "I don't care, Shane, please, just come pick me up. I'm at the beach."

  "You are so fucking dead, Urie, you know that?"

  "Okay."

  "Everyone has been off their ass looking for you, hell, Dallon even threatened to call the fucking police, because he's so worried about you."

  "Okay."

  "And all you can even  _think_  to say is "I don't care," thanks. You really don't fucking care, that there are people out there, tearing their hair out, worrying about your sorry ass."

  "Okay."

  "Fuck you, Brendon. You have a whole fucking lot to explain when we get home."

 

 

  He didn't have anything to explain. He sat on the couch while Shane ranted to him for god knows how long about what a dick move he pulled, just walking out of work like that and wandering off, not even bothering to tell anyone where he was going. He asked him several times if he was drunk, or high, or on  _something_ , to which he shook his head no.

  Shane kept asking him why he was acting like this, why he wouldn't tell him what was wrong, what was up, and Brendon kept his deafening silence up until his roommate was too frustrated to go on, walking into his bedroom and slamming the door, kicking various things behind the locked door.

  He doubled over himself and cried.

\- - - - -

  Brendon's boss gave him an unpaid week off, telling him that he needed to get his shit together, and that when he came back, he had better be ready for work, or he would be fired, lose the job of his dreams. Naturally, he spent the first half of the week off getting drunk out of his mind, and continuing to work on what he'd written that one day at the beach.

  The next half is a little different. No, actually, a lot different.

 

 

  Brendon returned to his meeting spot - writing spot. Spencer hadn't shown up ever since the day he went back into the ocean after turning human. Brendon didn't actually know if he turned back, or if he didn't and drowned, or if he didn't and just swam away, then back to shore when Brendon left, going to start a new life without him. He tried not to think about it, but it just popped into his head randomly every now and then. He distracted himself with music, with the sounds of the beach, with naming every fish he could remember, but it all turned back to Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, and it made his heart ache.

  He looked down at the water, wondering how deep it was in this area, since the shallow area of sand suddenly stopped as the large rocks he liked to sit on did. He made out the blurred fish that ventured close to the surface of the water, though they all seemed to begin hiding. A familiar feeling rushed through his blood, but he couldn't quite make it out. He ignored the chills that went down his spine, shivering along with them. A quick flash of blue underneath the ripples gave him a spark of nervousness, of hope, and another pang of heart ache. 

  He cast his gaze elsewhere, glancing up at the cliffs, watching for birds. He pretended he didn't hear a loud splash, pretended he couldn't feel someone come by and sit next to him, tried to ignore the wet arms that wrapped around his waist until he felt tears streaming down his cheeks, turning back and returning the hug. He tuned out the sobs that matched his own, upset to hear Spencer crying. He didn't like that sound, and he didn't want to hear it again, so he whispered his name over and over again until they were both a silent mess of tangled arms and tiny kisses.

  "I missed you," Brendon muttered into Spencer's ear, running a hand through his soaked hair. 

  "I'm sorry," he gasped, hugging the diver tighter, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Brendon, I really am, please - "

  "It's okay," he reassured him, smiling weakly into his neck, "it's okay, Spencer, I love you, I love you, I forgive you."

  "I was a jerk, I was horrible, I lashed out at you, I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise, I should've told you right away, I shouldn't have left you alone for so long."

  "I forgive you, Spence."

  "I love you, I love you, I love, love, love you, and I didn't even know what love was until I met you, and you've given me so much, and you make me so happy, and I love you a lot, okay, I don't know how many times I've told you that, I just really, really do, and I can't stop smiling when I think about you, and I don't know why I was so stupid and tried to stay away from you, it was a dumb idea, and Jon told me I looked miserable, and I even got sick for a while, but I'm better now so you don't need to worry about me okay, I just - you make me really happy, okay?"

  Brendon kissed him for what felt like an eternity.

\- - - - -

  A couple of years was all that they needed together. 

  Brendon wrote a song for him, about him, and he sang it so that the entire ocean could hear it, hear his song for Spencer. He wrote a little song that he called  _Always_ , and it was Spencer's most favorite thing in the world. He often asked Brendon to bring his guitar down to the docks or the cliffside rocks and play it for him. He kissed him afterwards every time, each one more passionate than the last, and he thought he couldn't be any happier.

  Of course, that was easily debunked, when Spencer decided that he wanted to make a huge, life changing decision. 

  He decided to go human.

**Author's Note:**

> ok ok ok this is like the longest thing ive ever written and id really like to thank all my friends who encouraged and supported me while writing this!! it was a lot of fun but kind of stressful and idefk ok omg


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